


A Thousand Nights Before I Wake

by AngelsAggression



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Feels, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsAggression/pseuds/AngelsAggression
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They kept fighting, unaware that the son of Hades had stopped short in the middle of the fight, barely breathing, but still very much alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Nights Before I Wake

Nico didn’t see it, but he sure as Tartarus _felt_ it. It was almost enough to drive him to his knees. No. No, it couldn’t happen. It couldn’t _be_. His limbs suddenly felt like lead posts, his sword arm dropping to his side, pale, slender fingers clenched tightly around the hilt of his weapon.  
  
His eyes weren’t seeing the battlefield around him, his ears not hearing the cries of anger, war, agony. His nose didn’t smell the blood, ichor, or the stench of monsters. He didn’t even hear the cacophonous cry of, “THE HERO OF OLYMPUS HAS FALLEN!” Unbeknownst to him, no one believed it. They kept fighting, unaware that the son of Hades had stopped short in the middle of the fight, barely breathing, but still very much alive.  
  
All at once, his body snapped to attention, his mind on overdrive as he surged into the fray, dodging battling demigods and the snapping jaws of monsters alike. Nico didn’t pause once when he had to slay a manticore in his way. He came out of it running, not a scratch on him. He didn’t stop running until he stumbled on a bloodied heap, their weapon gleaming with the Greek characters through the blood and other substances. Anaklusmos.  
  
Nico dropped his sword, horror settling ripe and heavy in his bones. “Percy,” he gasped, all but collapsing on his knees as he gingerly, almost in fright, turned the body over. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he thought it wouldn’t be Percy, that his sword was just there and hadn’t returned to the son of Poseidon’s pocket yet. That he _dropped_ it in this raging battle somehow.  
  
But it was Percy, his black hair matted with grime and his own blood. His eyes were closed. Nico shook him, gently but with growing frenzy. “Percy,” he kept saying desperately. He wouldn’t look at the wound in his stomach. Whoever, _whatever_ had made it knew exactly where to aim. The exit wound was at the small of his back. Nico choked on air, because the body was still _warm_ , the blood still rushing in thick rivulets, staining the Camp Halfblood shirt Percy always wore.  
  
“Please wake up,” Nico whispered, unwilling to believe that Percy Jackson was really gone, that what he’d felt just minutes ago wasn’t his soul departing for the Underworld. Nico became more hysteric the longer Percy remained unresponsive. He didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be real! It couldn’t because he’d _protected_ Percy almost as long as Percy himself had done the same for him.  
  
He couldn’t be lost. Nico could not have lost him now. “Get up! This isn’t funny, Jackson! _Get up_!” He yelled, his lungs pulsing with the fear, the anger, the sheer unwillingness to let this settle in his mind. “What about the camp? What about your mother, Tyson, Grover, Poseidon? What about…” His chest heaved. “What about Annabeth? Are you just going to leave her like this?!” He’d already left. Nico shook him again, angrily. Percy’s head lolled, pliant.  
  
He couldn’t look at his face while he cursed him, his dark orbs glaring at the bloody fabric of the shirt over Percy’s chest. “You’re a selfish bastard,” he hissed. “What is everyone going to say when you don’t come back after this is all over? How could you leave us? H-How could you…” He bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood, and it only made him feel sick because there was enough blood in the air already. “How could you leave me?” His voice was hoarse, so hoarse that he almost didn’t want to talk anymore, but he had to. It was all that was keeping him the slightest bit sane.  
  
Maybe Percy could still hear him.  
  
“I would have stuck around to see you,” he murmured, his heart bleeding out of his throat. “You know I’m not much for parties, but I would have stayed to watch you be congratulated and glow, but you’d never be pompous about it, would you? Y-You would look at the ground and smile, say it was nothing. You’ve always been so humble.” He drew Percy’s head to his chest, his free hand on the side of his skull like a shelter.  
  
The tears came slowly, but Nico couldn’t feel them. He could still smell the ocean, could still remember the taste of blue birthday cake on his tongue. He was swimming in Percy, and he couldn’t understand how much it had affected him up until now. His lungs shuddered, a knot lodged in the son of Hades’ throat, but he kept talking. He _had_ to keep talking. “I… _Love_ your smile,” he whispered into the wispy tips of the other boy’s hair.  
  
His heart bled profusely, the droplets sliding over his lips and soaking into his skin with every word. “You’d ask for blue food because that’s who you are. You’d rather… Put your focus into something comforting than acknowledge that everyone looks up to you even more because you saved them again.” His fingers untangled Percy’s hair with care that would have been alien.  
  
The saline that dripped from Nico’s chin only sped the process along, soaking into Percy’s scalp. “Everyone w-would laugh, because you can light up any situation with your stupid goofiness.” He sniffled, but he still didn’t know that it was because he was crying. “You’re so loved, Perce. The world doesn’t know how much it needs you, how much people like us need you.” His eyes watered anew. “I need you. I’ve always needed you, _always_. Always.” The world around him had melted away. He wasn’t talking to anyone but Percy.  
  
He never could.  
  
The words didn’t belong to anyone else.  
  
Nico knew. He knew it all along. He didn’t want to acknowledge what his subconscious already became more than okay with. Percy was the only one who would hear it. He bent his head, shielding Percy from everything else, everything and nothing.  
  
“I’m not afraid anymore. I-I’m not, I’m not afraid. I shouldn’t have been afraid in the first place.” The shame took form in his shoulders, shaking as he hiccuped around a sob. “P-Percy… I’ll fight for you, I swear I will…! I’ll fight now, I’m ready. I’ll fight the gods, I’ll fight Annabeth, I’ll fight the whole _world_ for a chance. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner. I’m _so sorry_ , just please wake up. I can’t do it if you’re…” He couldn’t say it.  
  
So he cried harder, holding Percy tighter. “Please, don’t leave me. Come back. Come _back_ …! Come back to me! _Percy_!” He knew he was crying now. He also knew the world had ended. His world left with Percy, because Percy _was_ his world.  
  
A world he’d been too scared to live in; too ashamed of the salt water scent that was the air, of the beautiful green hue of the sky, and of the meaning to live that was the attention, love, and affection. It was gone now. Crumbled. Broken. Nico couldn’t put it back together fast enough.  
  
He screamed the loss.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I didn't mean to hurt anyone.


End file.
